So far as posture went, he looked it. His lean hands were gripping the edges of the table nervously, and his head was bent again; he scowled and then shook his head as if to dispel the scowl. He cleared his throat repeatedly; he glanced at Johnson Boller, whose expression was divided between irrepressible amusement and some concern--and he cleared his throat once more and stared his fried egg fixedly in its lone eye. Thus he was sitting after five silent minutes, which both Mary and Boller had improved gastronomically, when Wilkins entered. "Beg pardon, Mr. Fry," said he. "A gentleman to see you." "I can't see him," Anthony said quickly. Wilkins smiled. "But this gentleman's on his way up now, sir," he said. "He's one of your friends, and the office allowed him to come up and merely 'phoned that he was coming. It is Mr. Robert Vining, sir!" Anthony shook his head. "Well, I cannot see even Mr. Vining this morning," he said. "Say, when he comes to the door, that--good gracious!" This last being quite justified, because Mary, with one small shriek, had bounded from her chair like a frightened fawn! The chair, toppling over, bumped about the floor for a bit until Wilkins caught it, and Mary, both hands clutched upon her bosom, stood poised for a full second, eyes round and horrified, lips parted. Then, as the lightning flashes, Mary had turned, and it seemed that she floated through the air to the corridor and into the corridor and down the corridor. In rather less than another second the door of the recent David's chamber closed with a slam. At the door the buzzer was buzzing. "Will you see him, sir?" asked Wilkins. "What? Yes," said Anthony. "Take away that chair and that extra plate before you open the door." Johnson Boller stood with lips pursed gravely until Wilkins was gone. "Are you going to let him--er--know?" "Hardly," said Anthony. "Although--I don't know. Bob's level-headed and resourceful and reliable. Do you suppose it would be possible to--ask his aid?" "Think of the girl!" said Johnson Boller. "Think what----" He stopped, for Mr. Robert Vining was with them--a tall, broad-shouldered, person of a year or so past thirty, bright and steady of eye, and with the flush of health upon his carefully shaven cheek. He entered like the muscular paragon he was, lithely and easily as a tiger; and it seemed to Anthony that, if he did nothing else, fifteen minutes of his conversation might serve to restore normal thought. Robert Vining was all of the pleasant every day that had been before their visit to the fight, and the very sight of him was stimulating. So he clasped Vining's hand and said heartily: "Good morning, Bob! You've breakfasted?" "Long since," grinned young Mr. Vining. "I--who uses perfume around here?" "No one," Anthony said, paling slightly. "Possibly----" Vining's eyes twinkled.